


Soul of Fire and Ice

by WithTheKeyIsKing



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Community: evilsam_spn, Dark Sam Winchester, Evil Sam Winchester, F/F, F/M, M/M, Prince Dean, Prince Sam
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-10-12
Updated: 2014-10-12
Packaged: 2018-02-18 18:53:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2358608
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WithTheKeyIsKing/pseuds/WithTheKeyIsKing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When he was four years old, Baron Dean Winchester's manor house burned down and his brother was kidnapped. Now, sixteen years later, Dean is the captain of King Michael Angeli's personal guard. When information that the Hellions from the land of Infernum want to take him captive, Dean must delve into his tricky past and address ideas he never thought possible.</p><p>As king of Caelum, Michael Angeli has a duty to produce heirs. And while his daughter is bright and sophisticated, she needs a man to stand by her side. And with a divine dream telling him Sam Winchester was born to be king, he thinks he has the perfect choice. That is, until the boy is kidnapped. Now, dealing with a war and a threat to his daughter's life, Michael has to make a decision he never wanted to consider.</p><p>Princess Abigail Angeli has always been proud to serve her kingdom, doing anything she can to put it before herself. And when it comes time for her to wed, she chooses someone who will make a great king. But when the castle goes under siege, Abigail finds herself facing her worst nightmare.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. In The Beginning

Michael Angeli gasped, bolting upright in bed. The images of his dream flashed through his mind, as vivid as real life.

It was pitch black outside and his wife slept peacefully beside him, unaware of the inner turmoil happening inside the King of Caelum's mind.

Michael sighed and silently got out of bed, moving to the balcony. The cool night air was refreshing and helped him clear his head as he went over the dream that had startled him awake.

There had been a boy, no older than eighteen, with brown hair and hazel eyes standing in front of a crowd of bowing people. A golden crown adorned his head and he was dressed in the finest of silks, all clothes blood red and dark black. That is, except for the crown on his head.

It was the crown the king of Caelum wore. The crown that Michael wore.

And then there had been the words, whispered in his mind like some message from God, the words answering his prayers as if it was a divine message.

_Sam Winchester was born to be King._

Michael ran a hand through his black hair and moved back into his room, quietly shutting the balcony doors. After a moments hesitation he left the room.

"My King," the two guards outside his room bowed. "Are you alright?"

Michael nodded. "I'm just going to my daughter's room. Stay here."

"Are you su-"

"Yes, I am."

Michael began walking down the hall, his bare feet padding quietly across the marble floor. Within a minute he reached the silver doors that went to Princess Abigail Angeli'shis daughter'sroom. Two guards stood outside the room, coming to attention and bowing when they saw their king. They opened the doors for him.

Michael went and stood by his daughter's bed. Abigail was barely two years old, but the King could already see true beauty blooming in her. Her black hair seemed to shine, her blue eyes deep and intense. Whoever married her would be a lucky man.

Michael sighed, running a hand over his face. He knew the name Winchester, a low level noble, but a noble none the less. Mary Winchester had been a Marchioness, but had fallen in love with a man below her standing. Michael had been friends with her, and knew how mad her parents had been when she had married a Baron. John Winchester was a smart and determined man, so Michael had given them his blessing.

They'd had a son named Dean, who Michael was pretty sure was four years old. About five months earlier than Michael's dream they'd had another son, naming him Samuel.

_Sam Winchester was born to be King._

Samuel would not inherit his father's title, Baron of Kansas, nor would he receive any lands or money; all of that would go to his elder brother. His best chance was to marry someone above his standing whose parents wished to give him their title, which was very unlikely if they had a son of their own.

Little did baby Samuel Winchester know that Michael was planning on having him wed his daughter, to become King of Caelum some day.

The nobles would be in fits, outraged that someone so low-standing would become their ruler. But Michael would share his divine dream and all would be well, because the people of Caelum followed the word of God above anything else.

* * *

In the morning Michael told his wife, Annalise, what he intended to do. She instantly agreed with him, telling him to follow his dream. The King and Queen, along with a few guards, rode out to Kansas.

They were instantly let into the manor house, of course. You would be insane to turn away the King and Queen.

Michael embraced Mary and shook John's hand, asking if they could speak. Michael shared his dream and told them what he believed it meant, that he wanted Samuel to wed his daughter when they were of age. John and Mary were delighted, so proud that their son had been chosen by God.

They let Michael and Annalise see Samuel, let them hold him. The child was only five months old, over a year and a half younger than Abigail, but that was such a small gap. His own parents were ten years apart.

Their other son, Dean, was a handsome young thing. For the rest of his life he would compared to his younger brother, but Michael had a feeling the green-eyed boy had a bright future himself.

* * *

Within ten days there wasn't anyone in Caelum who didn't know that Baron Samuel Winchester and Princess Abigail Angeli would be wed. At first the nobles had rebelled, outraged that a lowly  _Baron_ would be their King one day. But once they were told of Michael's dream, they could do nothing to arguethey all had faith in their God.

John and Mary received more visitors in that short period of time than they had in their entire time as Baron and Baroness. Mary's parents had even shown up, acknowledging John for the first time ever _._ Mary still didn't forgive them for turning their backs on her and her family, but she was grateful to see them again.

The day Samuel turned six month old, there was a horrible accident.

A fire started in the Winchester manor-house, killing Mary. John sent Dean outside with Samuel in his arms, trying and failing to save his wife. Before he managed to get to his sons, a man showed up and took Samuel from Dean, knocking him unconscious. It was assumed that the man had set fire to the house in an attempt to kidnap Samuel.

He succeeded.

The whole land of Caelum mourned the loss of their would-be King, and the Winchester family mourned the loss of Mary and Samuel. Michael was filled with anger and the need for revenge. He believed that someone had learned of Samuel's destiny, probably someone from that damned land of Infernum, and had intervened.

Little did he know that the King of Infernum had had the same dream as him. And he planned to see Samuel be King.


	2. 16 Years Later

Dean parried the strike, knocking his opponent off balance. He shoved his elbow at the man's gut, making the man double over. Dean kicked the man, knocking him the the ground. He leveled his sword at the man's neck.

"Yield! I yield!" The man yelled, raising his hand in a gesture of surrender.

Dean smirked and sheathed his sword, extending a hand to help the man up. "Name?" He asked.

The manmore of a boy, really. No older than fourteenstuttered out a reply. "K-Kevin, My Lord. Kevin Tran."

Dean nodded sharply. "Well, get back in line, Tran. You have a long way to go." The boy moved away hurriedly, and Dean turned his attention towards the line of trainees. So far none of them were good enough to be a member of the royal guard. Where did the scouts pick up this lot?

Dean's eyes landed on the girl with the bright blonde hair; she had shown promise. And she came from a good family, something most nobles wanted in the royal guard. "Harvelle!" He barked. The girl's head snapped up. She didn't look terrified of him, unlike the other trainees. It was refreshing.

"Yes, My Lord?" She said, raising her chin.

"Joanna Harvelle, daughter of Marquess William Harvelle, correct?" He already knew all of that, but he knew his tone could make trainees sweat, and  _man_ it was fun.

Joanna nodded sharply. "Daughter of Marchioness Ellen Harvelle as well," she said. Dean smirked at her tone; clearly this girl would be one to look out for.

"You show promise. Report to Duke Novak, he is the head of the royal guard. Tell him I believe you show promise, and then show him yourself. If you can't prove yourself to him, then you definitely don't deserve to be here. Everyone dismissed!"

The trainees all gave quick bows and muttered "my lord"s, scrambling to leave. Dean grinned, turning and heading towards the dining hallit was time for dinner. As head of King Michael Angeli's personal guard, Dean technically only had to train his own people. But by the time soldiers got to the level where they were brought into the King's guard, they lost the fear of their superiors, while trainees were still wide-eyed and bushy-tailed.

Dean was grateful that the King gave him time to go to those training sessions, and that Duke Novak allowed him to take over for a day every once in a while.

Dean entered the dining hall and smiled at all the right people, shook hands with some of his subordinates, and winked at some of the noble ladies, enjoying the blush that came to their cheeks.

He moved to his seat, the closest seat to the King that wasn't at the head tablethe head table was for only the King, the Queen, and the Princess.

Michael spotted him and smiled slightly, nodding his head in acknowledgement. Dean did the gesture back, then thanked the servant that set a tray of food in front of him.

The doors opened again and the trainees shuffled in, sitting at a table in the back. Though all of them were noble, some very high born, and would normally sit at their deserving tables of rank, they were trainees of the royal guard now, and would sit at the lowest tables to show them humility.

Dean caught sight of Joanna Harvelle, her blonde hair hanging loose now, no longer up in the style it had been during training. He smiled at the sight of her in a silk dress; it was an extreme difference from the simple tunic and pants for training. She had also washed the grime from her face and she seemed to shinelike that, she truly looked like a Marchioness.

Joanna was looking around the room and her eyes landed on Dean, who was currently staring at her. He smirked when he caught her eye, raising his glass in a small solute. To his surprise Joanna only rolled her eyes and turned back to her own meal. Dean felt the corners of his mouth twitch into a smile. There was something truly interesting about that girl.

King Michael stood, and all conversations faded away. He smiled at the people gathered before him. "As you all know, Princess Abigail's eighteenth birthday is tomorrow, the day she comes of age," he gestured to his right where the dark-haired girl sat, looking so much like a ruler it was crazy. "As is tradition, a courting ball will be held for all the young noble girls who will be turning eighteen this year along with my daughter. I hope to see you all there."

The crowd of nobles and servants present clapped, and Dean saw some girls whispering excitedly to themselves. Anytime a princess turned eighteen, even if she was engaged already, a courting ball was held for all young noble girls turning eighteen in the coming year. The way the ball worked was that if a noble lad present was interested in a girl, he gave her a red rose. If she was interested back, she would give him a white rose in return.

Dean knew for a fact that his father would be mad if he didn't attend the ball. While Dean was twenty years old and already head of King Michael's personal guard, he had not yet ever seriously gone after someone. Yes, there had been  _many_ girls that he'd had relations with, but no one he'd even looked at as serious. Dean was pretty sure that even Michael would want him to find someone tomorrow.

* * *

An hour later Dean was in his chambers preparing for bed. He wasn't on duty until five in the morning, and he'd be damned if he wasn't going to get as much sleep as he could.

Right as he was settling into bed, a knock came at his door.

Dean cursed, muttering insults to himself about whoever was on the other side of his bedroom door. He flung the door open and glared at the two guards that were standing there. One of them flinched at the intensity of his gaze.

"Yes?" He demanded. The second guard cleared his throat.

"I'm sorry to have disturbed you, m'Lord, but King Michael wishes to see you," he said with a bow of his head.

Dean sighed and rubbed his eyes. "One moment, let me get dressed." He shut the door.

Quickly Dean pulled the clothes he'd worn that day out of his laundry hamper, putting them on. He also attached his sword to his hip and his King's Guard Captain pin to his chest. Then he opened the door.

The two guards led Dean to the King's chambers, but he already knew the way there by heart. In his position, if you didn't know the quickest way to get  _anywhere_ in the palace from any place, you weren't deserving of your job.

Soon they arrived, Dean's own chambers fairly close in case of emergency.

Dean nodded at the two King's guardsmen at the door and they nodded back, opening the door for him. The guards that had escorted him turned and walked away.

"Ah, Dean! I'm glad you came quickly. I have something I wish to speak to you about." Michael said warmly, looking up from his desk.

"What can I do for you, Your Grace?" Dean said respectfully. Michael might treat him as a friend sometimes, but he was still King, and deserved the proper respect.

Michael gestured to a chair across from him and Dean sat, adjusting his sword. "As you know, tomorrow is the Courting Ball." Dean nodded. "I wish for you to attend."

Dean nodded. "Of course, My King. I will be on duty starting at five tomorrow and can easily arrange my schedule so that i'm on duty all day."

Michael huffed a laugh. "No, Dean. I mean I wish for you to attend the ball tomorrow as a guest. As one of the noble men there for courting."

Dean had suspected this somewhat, but it still struck his as surprising. If Dean found someone he cared for, even married, then wouldn't his loyalties be split between his wife and his duty to the King?

As if sensing his trouble, Michael leaned forward. "My friend, you have served me as a member of my guard since you were fifteen years old, the youngest King's Guardsman ever. And for the past year you have served me as head of my guard, the youngest Captain of the King's Guard ever. Your mother was a friend to me, your father is part of my council, and your brother was destined to be my successor."

Dean swallowed hard at the mention of his mother and brother, subconsciously touching the pendant around his neck. Michael continued.

"Tomorrow my daughter must find someone to spend the rest of her life with. Not only must she care for him, but he must be someone that is worthy of being king one day. I have talked to her often about what she will choose, and I am fortunate enough to have been given a daughter who is immensely loyal to her duty as future Queen. She has made a list of people she believes are worthy of the title, and pointed out to her mother which ones she believes she could truly care about. I also made a list of possible choices."

He paused, looking Dean right in the eyes. "You were at the top of both lists."

Dean's heart stopped and his lips parted, his eyes going wide. "My-my King?" For the first time in his life Dean was truly at a loss for words.

Michael smiled, his expression both amused and sad. "For the past few months you and I have discussed raising your title because many nobles are upset that a Baron has become Captain of the King's Guard. You were very humble about it, saying that you were happy with what you were, refusing to let me move you any higher than an Earl. I always had every intention to make you a Duke. But now I have discussed the prospect of you marrying my daughter with my wife, with my council, and with Abigail herself. They all agree that you would make a great King and a loyal husband, and that someone born as low as a Baron becoming king would help unite the peasants and the nobles."

Dean swallowed hard. Michael wanted him to be King? Michael trusted him enough to let him wed his daughter? Dean had befriended Abigail in his many years serving her father, but had been careful to never make any moves that would be seen as flirting. She was a  _princess,_ and while a Baron could be friends with one, there was no way of a relationship happening.

Strangely enough, Joanna Harvelle's face popped into his head, but he quickly pushed thoughts of her away.

"You're very silent, Dean. Do you wish to say no?" Michael asked, his voice tired.

Dean hesitated. If he said no, he could very well destroy any chance he had at moving up the ranks, probably ruining whatever friendship he shared with the royal family. But if he said yes, he might as well be selling himself like a slave. He would have to rule a whole country, would have so many people looking up to him, so many people depending on him.

And could he really just take his brother's place?

Dean was only four when Sam was taken, and everyone, even his father, believed Sam was dead. But Dean still hoped one day his little brother would show up, a hero who escaped his captors. Sam would become who he was meant to be, a King. And Dean would guard him with his life.

But now Abigail was of age, and she needed someone to stand by her side. She couldn't wait for Sam to return, and neither could the land of Caelum. At least Dean would honor his brother by doing Abigail right.

Dean nodded. "Yes, my answer is yes. I will happily marry Princess Abigail."


	3. The Royal Engagement

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry my chapters are kind of short! I'll try to do better

Dean's knee bounced nervously and he scowled as Benny smirked at him. "Shut up," he snapped.

His friend chuckled. "I didn't say anything. But if you want to talk about it, brother, I'm here."

Dean hit him lightly. "You know what, Laffite, if I need any help, I'll ask for it."

Benny rolled his eyes. "Dean, you may be my superior, but I'm your friend, and you're about to attend your engagement party! You're bouncing off the walls, brother. What can I do to help?"

Dean looked down at his clothes. He was wearing an off-white shirt and pants with gold patterns, the sleeves slightly puffy. A sword with an embroidered hilt sat at his side, his King's Guard Captain pin over his heart, a cross hanging from a chain around his neck.

"Yeah, you can get me some clothes that don't make me look like a freaking snowman," he muttered. Benny laughed lightly, pulling him to his feet just as someone knocked on the room door.

"Well that would be a fellow King's Guardsman coming to get you. Man, even when you stop being captain, we'll  _still_ have to answer to you!" Benny complained jokingly. Dean snorted and shoved his shoulder, going to open the door.

Charlie Bradbury smiled up at him. "Hey, Captain," she said warmly. "You ready?"

Dean took a deep breath and nodded. Not a lot could scare him, but walking into the ballroom, his fiance (the freaking  _princess)_ on his arm, all eyes on them, absolutely terrified him.

Down the hall he met up with Abigail and embraced her. Over the past two months since the Courting Ball when he gave her a red rose and in return she gave him a white rose, Dean and Abigail had become quite close. Before they'd had a sort of casual acquaintanceship, but now Dean could truly say he considered Abigail a friend. He didn't think he loved her quite yet, not in the way a husband loved his wife, and she didn't love him like that yet either. But they'd talked about it, and they cared about each other enough that they were sure it would be enough even if they never loved each other like that.

While Dean had wanted to marry for love, he felt quite fortunate that he was marrying someone whom was one of his best friends, whom he cared deeply about.

Dean extended his arm to Abigail and she took it, smiling at him gratefully. Abigail was one of the only people Dean knew would always looked confident, but he could feel her nerves as well. He placed his hand over hers, conveying that he was there for her, that she wasn't alone, and then removed it. They headed towards the ballroom.

* * *

The party was fun enough; there was so many people congratulating him that he barely remembered any faces. He danced with so many girls his feet hurt, and felt grateful any time he was able to get some time to just sit and eat. The moments where he could talk to Abigail were so nice. Sometimes he could hear her softly laughing across the room, and wished he could go and find her, dance with her once more.

When the moon was high in the sky he saw Duke Castiel Novak enter the ballroom and head straight for Michael. The Captain of the Royal guard whispered something to the King, making Michael go tense, his expression souring. He said something to the people he'd been speaking to with a fake smile, then followed Castiel out of the room. Dean wanted to follow, to know what was going on, but his absence from his own engagement party would be looked at poorly unless the king himself requested him to leave.

So Dean continued to eat and drink and dance, until finally the party ended. He escorted Abigail to her room, laughing with her the whole way about the stupid things some of their guests had done. He hugged her goodnight and then headed back to his room. Dean quickly changed into regular clothing, planning on going for a quick ride on his horse before bed.

Halfway to the stables, he saw Castiel coming towards him with a serious expression. When they were about to pass each other Castiel stopped him. "Duke Winchester, please follow me." Dean nodded, still unused to his new title.

"What's happened?" He asked as he realized Castiel was leading him to the torture chamber.

"The Hellions attacked the castle during your engagement party. The Royal Guard was able to stop them before they got to far into the palace, but it was a well organized attack, unlike the ones they'd attempted before. Much more stealthy. We've learned they were trying to kidnap a group of people, not just kill any nobles they could."

Dean rose his eyebrows, intrigued. Whenever Hellions attacked they were always loud and barbaric, killing anyone they saw. But if they'd been able to enter the palace unseen and unheard, and they were looking to capture someone...Well, that was interesting.

"Who were they trying to kidnap?" He asked just as they arrived at the torture chamber.

"We managed to capture one of them. Ask him yourself," Castiel pushed open the door and they walked inside.

In the chamber already stood Michael, Charlie and Benny, and Uriel, the torturer. Charlie and Benny stood guard while Michael and Uriel spoke in hushed tones, Michael sitting in a chair across from the prisoner. The Hellion they'd managed to capture sat beaten and bloodied, whimpering slightly. Uriel's leather apron was covered in blood but he didn't seem all that disturbed. Dean repressed a shudderhe hated torturers.

"Dean," Michael said gravely when he spotted him. Dean moved forward, standing at his King's side. The bloodied man seem to register Dean's presence, sitting up straighter, looking at Dean almost greedily.

"Dean Winchester," he croaked out, his tone excited. "I never thought I'd see the day..."

Dean scowled. "How do you know my name? Who were you sent here for?"

The man sighed. "As I already told Mr. Torture-" he nodded at Uriel, "Big Man-" he nodded at Michael, "and Frowny-Face over there-" he nodded towards Castiel, "I came here for five people. Castiel Novak, Victor Henrikson, Joanna Harvelle, and Adam Milligan." Fear twitched in Dean's heart at Joanna's name.

Dean frowned. "You said five people. Who's the last?"

The Hellion grinned, exposing a gap of missing teeth. Dean had no doubt they'd been pulled during his torture. "You, Dean Winchester. I know your name because you were top priority. We were sent to capture you above all else."

Dean went rigid, shock sparking through him. "Why me?"

The man's grin grew, a hysterical laugh bubbling through his lips. "Our Prince had plans for you, Duke Dean Winchester. There's no where you can hide.  _Vos elegit._ You have been marked."

Dean took a deep breath. He didn't even know Infernum  _had_ a prince; Hell, he barely knew anything about their King! No one did.

"Well, your plan failed. I'm still here, in Caelum, and now so are you." Dean said, trying to appear casual.

The man only gave him a look of mock-pity. "If you think this is the last of us, you'll be dead before you know what hit you."

* * *

Dean paced in his room, wringing his hands. It had been two weeks since he had found out that the Prince of Infernum wanted him, and he'd spent almost every moment trying to figure out why. Abigail had tried to help him, sensing his worry and discomfort, but with their wedding approaching so soon she could only help him research the Royal family of Infernum so much.

With his wedding in only eight hours, Dean knew that he should lay down and go to sleep, but he really couldn't. He had spoken to Joanna briefly about his worries, and she'd understood perfectly. Ever since they'd captured the Hellion, the five people listed as wanted for capture had been placed in protective custody. Joanna wasn't able to do her duties as member of the Royal Guard (she'd officially gotten her position a month after the Courting Ball), and it was pissing her off. She wanted nothing more than to get out there and do her job, but she was confined to the castle, always supervised.

Finally, after an hour more of pacing and muttering, Dean took an herb to help him sleep. Abigail would kill him if he fell asleep during the ceremony.

* * *

Abigail looked absolutely radiant.

She wore a pure white dress that trailed behind her, a blue almost as pure as her eyes sketching patterns across the bodice. Her black hair was braided and twisted around her head, two curls framing her face. Her tiara sat atop her head and her eyes shown with something Dean hoped was excitement. Dean couldn't help but smile at the sight of her, more beautiful than he thought someone could be. He took a mental picture, determined to remember what she looked like right then for the rest of his life.

When she reached the alter, Michael placed her hand in Dean's, smiling proudly.

Abigail and Dean both said their vows, and kissed. They had kissed before, but this felt different, less like a kiss of friendship and more like a kiss of partnership. And that's exactly what it was.

The party was extravagant, so many people from so many lands celebrating the marriage of Princess Abigail Angeli and Duke (now Prince) Dean Winchester. They received so many gifts Dean wasn't sure what they would do with them, but it didn't matter. He had a great time dancing and laughing with his wife, celebrating with his friends, and all worries of Infernum were pushed from his mind.

So it was an incredible surprise when the doors of the ballroom burst open and a seemingly endless amount of Hellion soldiers marched in, killing whatever guards got in their way, even slaying nobles and children who ran.

Dean pushed Abigail behind him and went to draw his sword, then cursedit wasn't there. He'd had to take it off for the ceremony, and just forgot to put it back on. It hadn't seemed necessary.

As if seeing his distress, Benny yelled his name and tossed him his second sword. Some guards had taken to carrying two lately, and right then Dean was incredibly grateful. He caught the sword and drew it out of it's sheath, instantly stepping into the fight.

He stayed as close to Abigail as he could, trying to defend her. Benny did the same, both of them on either side of her. Ever since Dean and Abigail had been thrown together, he'd tried to teach her how to fight. She'd become pretty good with a bow, and with a dagger, but she had neither with her currently. And she'd never seen an actual fight before. She was scared.

Dean could see that the people of Caelum were loosing. They were greatly out-numbered and the other side had the element of surprise. Soon he was over-run and was forced to surrender.

Dean snarled insults at the Hellions who tied his hands, yelling death threats at the ones who were tying up Abigail. The Hellions just smirked at him, not even reacting.

They, along with all the other captured nobles, were dragged from the ballroom and into the throne room. Dean heard Abigail inhale sharply, and he followed her gaze. At the foot of the King's throne was Michael, his hands tied and his face bloodied. Dean wasn't sure if he was dead or unconscious; he hoped the latter.

Sitting on the throne was a man with sandy blonde hair. His smile was easy and light, but his piercing blue eyes were intelligent, scanning the filling throne room with something like greed.

On the slightly-smaller throne beside the man sat a boy no older than Dean with brown hair that swept in front of his hazel eyes. He looked far less open than the man beside him, his expression intense and intelligent, and kind of intimidating. Though the man was clearly in charge (he was on the King's throne), power seemed to radiate from the boy next to him.

Dean and Abigail were dragged before the thrones and shoved to their knees. "Are you alright?" Dean asked her.

She nodded, giving him a small smile, but he saw fear in her eyes. Dean's attention was pulled from his wife when the man began to speak.

"Well, I must say it's a pleasure to meet you two," the man's voice was silky, and he smiled down at Dean and Abigail as if they were old friends.

Dean glared and spat at the man. The Hellions around the room shifted, some of them baring their teeth, some of them growling.

The man's lips twitched, but other than that he din't react. "I've come a long way to meet you, Dean Winchester. Show a little respect."

Dean could hear the threat in his voice. He opened his mouth to reply, when Abigail stood up.

Even in her wedding gown, Abigail looked fierce. There was a splattering of blood over her dress from when Dean had been cut, and her array of braids had come loose so it hung in waves around her shoulders. Her tiara was missing, but she didn't need it. She had never looked more like a Queen than in that moment.

"You've invaded my palace, killed and taken hostage my people, and beaten my father. What exactly is it that you want?" Her voice boomed through the throne room, strong and regal.

The man looked at her, amused. "I respect your brazenness, Princess. But you would do well to speak only when you're spoken too. I am King Lucifer Angeli, of Infernum."

A murmur ran through the crowd of nobles. Lucifer Angeli was the brother of King Michael. He had been exiled over twenty years ago for treason and had been assumed deadapparently he wasn't.

Dean stood as well, pushing through the hands that tried to hold him down. "Well good for you, you're a King. Why are you here?"

Lucifer scowled, standing from his thrown. He moved towards Dean with long strides. When they stood face to face the man wrapped his hand around Dean's throat, cutting off his airway. Dean gasped for air, black spots already dancing in front of his eyes. He heard Abigail yell but everything was fading away and his legs were so close to giving out.

"Father."

The hand around his throat immediately let go. Dean gasped, falling to his knees. Abigail knelt beside him, her hands on either side of his face. She was telling him to breath, the take deep breaths, but he didn't need the instructionall he could think about was getting air in.

After a few minutes, Dean looked up, searching for the voice that had saved his life. His eyes landed on the boy in the second throne, who was currently staring at him. The voice had said called Lucifer  _Father,_ so it made sense that it was the boy in the a throne beside him who had called him that. Dean remembered what the captured Hellion had said, about the Prince of Infernum wanting him.

"Why did you save me?" He asked hoarsely, staring right back at the boy.

The boy smirked, the first real emotion Dean had seen on his face, but his eyes were gaurded. "In another life we knew each other. I was...curious, as to who you had become."

Dean's eyebrows knit together in confusion. "How did we know each other?"

Lucifer chuckled, drawing Dean's attentions back to him. "It's such an odd coincidence, don't you think, Dean? Two born-Baron boys grow up to be Princes."

Dean glanced around the room, and saw a bunch of Hellions smirking and chuckling. "Who are you?" He asked the boy.

The boy made his voice loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. "My name is Prince Sam Angeli of Infernum, heir to the throne. My birth name was Baron Samuel Winchester of Caelum." He smirked, his eyes shifting to Abigail. "We were supposed to be wed. Guess we're kind of cousins now, huh?"

Dean felt just as horrified as Abigail looked. That boy was his  _brother._ That boy was the child Dean had pulled from their burning manor-house sixteen years ago, that boy was the child Dean had tried and failed many times to forget.

That boy was staring at him with no love, only a distant coldness, a complete lack of caring.


End file.
